St Neots

So, last away game of the season, owing to Hereford's demise, on Easter Monday in early April. Only a 40 mile drive, but it's the last away game of the season. Let's go via London on the train. SCOTTIE TOUR!

A relaxed 10:20 train meant enough time for a hearty breakfast at Gary Cooper's before catching the busway to the station. Once at King's Cross we had 40 minutes to kill, so headed for an early livener. With hindsight, a trip to the back of the station to the Parcel Yard would have been preferable, but we spotted the GNH Bar. Let's just say, we won't be back thanks!

Sipping and appreciating every drop of our drinks, we bumped into some Brighton fans on their way to Rotherham, who were suitably impressed with our seagulls. The slow train to St. Neots was made more bearable with a few beers we had purchased from ASDA, which kept us going until we reached the Hog and Partridge on Russell Street.

The disappointment of the Hog being closed was abated by finding the Weeping Ash on the way to the Pig and Falcon. We tried the Black Bear from the Beartown Brewery, a ruby coloured mild, which was outstanding, as well as Adnams Fat Sprat. A call from Ray and Froggy, who were driving up, informed us they were nearly in town, so we told them to meet us in the Pig and Falcon, which is a couple of doors down from the Ash.

The beer gods were shining on us, as there was a mini beer festival on in the Pig and the range of cask and bottled beer was impressive. Many beers were sampled including Black & White, a dark mild from Bateman's, Framboise, a raspberry beer by Belgian Brouwerij Lindemans and a double chocolate stout. It was touch and go, about going to match at this point.

The match itself was a classic. With the Mighty Blues 3-1 up at half time, St Neots, who were pushing for a play off place, threw the kitchen sink as us in the second half, and we managed to grind out a 3-3 draw. Great game and a great atmosphere, which concluded with us being applauded out of their clubhouse. I think they were glad to see the back of us.

Happy with our day out so far, it was looking like being a classic Scottie Tour. The journey back into London seemed quicker than on the way up and it didn't seem to long before we were on our way to the Euston Tap, with a quick pit stop at the Rocket on Euston Road.

A swift Black Sheep Best was a good opener in the Rocket, which was quickly followed in the Tap by a London Sour from the The Kernel Brewery, an amazing Berliner Weisse beer from the Bermondsey based brewery. A Jacob's Ladder by the Buxton Brewey was next. Ten pence from every pint sold is donated to the Buxton Mountain Rescue Team, so give with all your heart.

The bearded chap that is usually serving in the Cider Tap was on duty in the Euston Tap tonight, so it seemed appropriate to finish on the Decadence Stout by the Weird Beard Brew Company. A rich chocolate and coffee flavour was a great way to finish the night.

The journey home was preceded by an end of season photo call at St Pancras with the statue of poet Sir John Betjeman.

Another great season is coming to a close and we are already looking forward to next season. Come on you Blues!

Truro

Truro. Cornwall. Over 600 miles, there and back. SCOTTIE TOUR!

We weighed up over the past few weeks, how we would get to Truro, but with the train coming in at £50 a head, it was too good not to take up. The chairman did lay on a coach for less money for the return journey, but we had our minds set on this epic journey being on the train.

This epic journey started with an early morning taxi to Luton station to catch the 0540 to London and to one of our favourite stations, Paddington. Once on the Cornwall bound train at 0730 it was time to watch the clock for beer o'clock.

Supplies had been bought to lubricate the long journey. Fuller's Black Cab Stout and a Guinness Dublin Porter, were accompanied by a couple of Whitstable Bay ales. Once in rainy Truro, we headed for the Wig & Pen, initially in the wrong direction, to met the chaps who had come on the coach.

After a couple of pints of Tribute and a HSD (Hicks Special Draught) in the Wig and Pen, we got the distinct impression that we were not welcome. The manager seemed to to encourage a local to take us to another pub. Maybe we were too loud! So the drunk local escorted us to Bunters. A real dive, but had a decent pint of Lighthouse by Adnams.

If you're in Cornwall, you have to try a pasty, so a short walk into town to find some. First shop was excellent. A second shop was also sampled, but wasn't as good. This didn't seem to placate Ian who was upset that he had missed out on the second shop after tagging along to McDs with Aaron and Thomas.

A short taxi ride to the ground saw an impressive looking stadium, which showed how ambitious this club are. Clubhouse was fantastic, carrying local Tribute ales and decent food. During the game we were joined by a northern chap who liked that fact that we played in a similar strip to that of his home town, Uddersfield. He had sampled the local ale and repeated his tales of Uddersfield many times. On the final whistle he ran on the pitch, in Froggy style, as if Dunstable Town had won. We had in fact drawn. 600 mile round trip and no goals, but surprisingly, a good game.

A stop off at Sainsbury's for more supplies for the return journey, saw our taxi pull into Truro station in time to catch the London bound train.

On the way back, it seemed a good time to drunkenly order 25 inflatable seagulls on eBay and to put up the flags in the carriage. Once at Bristol we picked up a crowd of youngsters who had been on a birthday bender on their way home to Swindon. They asked to hear our repertoire of songs and then joined in their favourites, whilst one young chap wanted to sign for us, with tales of how he used to play for Chippenham Town.

Dean, using his latent pulling power, chatted up a girl you was overly amazed by his Dunstable Town hat. "High Five Blue Hat", she yelled down the carriage before settling down with the DTFC Casanova.

We managed to get back into London in time to catch the last Tube back to St Pancras and whilst we waited for our train back to Luton, Thomas tickled the ivories, poorly to be fair. After a weary 20 hour trip, Casanova was at it again on the train back to Luton, this time a blonde Polish girl. You have to watch the quiet ones!

Banbury

Banbury away only turned into a Scottie Tour, as it was Scottie's birthday. A lame excuse to go to football on the train and have a good drink up. Unfortunately, compared to recent Tours, it was a damp squib and the day was saved by a pasty or two.

Before the day kicked off, the train tickets needed to be booked and with a recent land slide at Leamington Spa we could no longer go via Coventry. This meant we had to go via London and that always turns out heavy on the wallet and the liver.

So an early start at Luton was somewhat spoilt by the lack of breakfast. The Scandinavian Cafe was no longer, due to sad death of the owner Gaz Palermo. Gaz and his wife Teresa had been open on High Town Road for over 40 years and his breakfasts will be sorely missed.

Replacements cafes were not open and we decided to hit the train and get some grub at Paddington. On arrival at Paddington we popped out of the building into the back streets to find a decent cafe. Eventually, we found one and stocked up on bacon rolls and coffee for the trip to Banbury.

Even the ticket collector questioned our sanity when we explained our journey, but sympathised when we explained about the landslide. On arrival in Banbury we made our way into the town centre as we had been recommended a pub in town called the Banbury Cross. It wasn't in the GBG so we were apprehensive, but as Charlie Wells establishment, it should have been a decent standard.

How wrong were we? Most of the beer was off and the only cask beer on was McEwan's IPA. A quick chat and we decided to do the off and picked up a couple of pasties from The Cornish Pasty & Tea Shop. A variety of pasties were sampled from traditional to beef madras and was so far the highlight of the day.

Our walk to the next pub was interrupted by a random woman who wanted to tell us her life story, as she marginally came from Dunstable. We thought of dragging her to the game, but her husband didn't seem keen.

So on to the next pub, this time from the reliable WhatPub website. The Bell was very quiet, at one point we were the only ones in the bar, but with the excellent Ruck & Roll from the St Austell Brewery, we made up for lost time.

The least said about the game, the better. Banbury thought they had won the FA Cup by their celebrations and their goalkeeper was offering our supporters out, which was interesting. Even more laughable was when his Nan and Grandad had a go at us as well on leaving the ground. With their recent record of game abandonment's, from throwing objects at referees and the unnecessary attitude from the knuckle dragging locals, I really hope this shower get relegated. (Your wish is our command - Southern League Fairies)

The long, disappointing journey home was improved by a stop off at the Euston Tap, where we were chatted up by a homeless chap who claimed to be 18. He must have had a heavy paper round! All told this was the worst Scottie Tour so far, maybe because the others had been so good, or maybe because from missing breakfast, the whole day rapidly went downhill.

There's always next time!

Redditch

 

After our first win on a Scottie Tour, we were full of optimism for the trip to Redditch for the first Tour of 2015. Breakfast was taken at Gary Cooper’s in Dunstable, before boarding a cab to Leighton Buzzard, for the journey via Birmingham New Street, past Cadbury World and on to Redditch. Ray, the landlord of the Harvest Home and new sponsor was coming on his first Tour and was on a mission, it has to be said. 

Redditch is “famous” for many things. It’s the birthplace of Led Zep drummer Jon Bonham, home to the young Rik Mayall and most famously the birthplace of the Royal Enfield motorcycle. The Redditch factory closed in 1967 before production moved to Bradford on Avon. Now, when you see a pub called the Royal Enfield in the Good Beer Guide and it is in Redditch, you would assume that it had some connection with the factory. No. It’s an old cinema. Don’t you just love Wetherspoon’s. It does contain some Royal Enfield memorabilia such as a full scale motorcycle, but as the random model of Gary Cooper in the Dunstable outlet proves, the link can be quiet tenuous. The former cinema has a circular bar which offers up to eight real ales including a local ale and a guest cider. The balcony-style seating at the front of the pub allows smokers to watch the world go by. 

As Ray and Kev had missed breakfast at Cooper’s, they steamed in on the lunchtime menu and ordered a couple of massive burgers. We started off on the Devil’s Backbone, which is an American IPA brewed specifically for Wetherspoon’s and is a bit pokey at 5.2%. Next up was a Spanish craft beer, again brewed for Wetherspoon’s, slightly weaker golden ale which is brewed in the country by Adnams and has sherry oak added during the ageing process to complement the citrus aromas. 

Not a bad start so far, a brisk walk back past the station and the ground to try out the Queens Head on Bromsgrove Road. A small two roomed pub, once we have all piled in, there was not much room left, but with a roaring open fire and the ever reliable Doom Bar on draught, it was a welcome stop until kick off. 

On arrival at the ground we were greeted by some rather agitated locals who were spouting some rubbish about how much they paid to get in at our “shithole”. Now Creasey Park is much better than it was, although soul less, it is quite smart. A “shit hole” it ain’t. Then we remembered that the game at Creasey Park was one of the matches were the increase in ticket price was trialled, and thankfully shelved. Whilst I can understand being slightly peeved at paying over a tenner at this level of football, they should perhaps look around them, at their quintessential shit hole, before opening their little spotty mouths. 

Being 1-0 down at half time was not a surprise to us for a Scottie Tour, but Scot Davies raised our hopes of maybe a point in the second half before Ben Herd brought us crashing back down to earth with what was a spectacular own goal, although I’m pretty sure he’ll blame Luke Chambers. So once again, we set off home on a Scottie Tour without any points, but we did see a Dunstable Town goal and that was enough to spur us on for a post drink in the Golden Cross. 

Now this was a strange place. A search on the internet will tell you that this was once a nice pub, with a carvery and real ale. It certainly no longer does the last two and some of the locals probably would not fall into the nice category, but to be fair it is going to be your usual Saturday early evening rabble anyway. With no real ale, Ray slipped into cocktail mode and that never ends well. 

Combined with the two bombs for a fiver deal, we kept the barman busy enough to be pouring the next round straightaway, in an attempt to keep up. Kev took it upon himself to represent Dunstable Town on the pool table and he is convinced his opponent made attempted to woo his affections. We think he was just trying to put him off. 

An incident free journey home, with the exception of Scottie watering the front of a stationary train at Birmingham New Street, brought another great day out to a close, with plans for the next Tour to be Banbury in February.

Chesham

With Christmas on the horizon, a Scottie Tour to Chesham was a must, and a thinly veiled excuse to go via London on the way home. Under normal circumstances a short 35 minute drive through the Buckinghamshire countryside would bring you to leafy Amy Lane, but in the new era of Regimental train journeys, we set off from Luton, into King’s Cross and then onto an epic 17 stop, 59 minute journey on the Metropolitan line. So another visit to the Scandinavian Café for a breakfast refuel before boarding at Luton was in order and by the time we arrived in Chesham, the taste buds were waiting to be bathed in ale. 

A short walk from the station was the Red Lion, a large open plan pub, with a long L shaped bar. We popped in here as the Tractor Boyz wanted to watch the Ipswich match, but the locals had over ruled them and opted for the Arsenal match. The very accommodating bar stuff switched one of the many TVs over so they could watch Ipswich Town drag out what looked like a 0-0 draw against Charlton Athletic, until Noel Hunt squeezed in a last minute winner. This cheered up the Tractor Boyz and Kevin was happy as the Gunners have put the mighty WBA to the sword thanks to a Danny Welbeck second half goal. So, we’re guzzling the excellent and reliable Doom Bar, the boys are happy that their second teams have won, what can go wrong? Erm, three Scottie Tours, one draw, two losses and no goals. As we strolled up the road to Amy Lane, we wondered if we would see a Dunstable goal, let alone a win. 

The boys did not disappoint today. Not only did we get our first goals on a Scottie Tour, we also had a first win. An emphatic 3-1 victory over the Generals was most enjoyable, with goals from Effiong, Herd and McKenzie-Lowe. This sent us on our merry way in a very happy mood, despite the aggrieved locals who resorted to abuse as we left the ground, with one particular mouthy little so and so, claiming our support was shit and that they took more fans to Truro. On the walk back into town we agreed to try out the highly recommended Chesham Brewery Shop. 

Established in 2013 by the Red Squirrel Brewery, the shop is right on the Market Square and, although in recent times it was an Italian delicatessen, it was once a pub called the Globe. It is better described as a micro pub and beer shop, selling an excellent range of bottled beers, ciders and wine supplemented by a neat little bar selling draught Red Squirrel beers, guests and cider. Beers are served from a tiled wall behind the bar with 10 taps in a very similar way to the Euston Tap. A couple of pints of the Red Squirrel Czech Pilsner were sampled before we stocked up for the epic return journey on the Metropolitan line. The massive choice of bottled beers is perfectly complimented by their take away service. A two pint milk bottle full of beer for the journey at only £4 cannot be sniffed at and with our supplies set off for Chesham Station. On arrival it seemed our tickets were not working on the barrier. It appears that Chesham is in Zone 9, did not even know there was a zone 9, and we only had Zone 6 tickets. Faced with seven tipsy Dunstable Town fans the chap in the ticket office made an executive decision and let us all through. What a legend! 

As you may or may not know, on the London Underground as you approach the next stop the sultry sounds of what we think is Joanna Lumley, tells you the name of the approaching station. As Joanna was telling us our next station was Euston Square, we all looked at each other and thought “Euston Tap”, so we bundled off and surfaced on the Euston Road, with the Tap in sight. As we came to a fire station, a fire engine was just reversing back in from a shout and we jovially suggested that we come in for a tour. The fire fighters seemed very keen to show us round, a little too keen for our liking and we bottled it. Maybe another time chaps. 

Once at the Tap, raspberry cider, calvados and an excellent Christmas Ale were quaffed, making the journey back to Luton somewhat hazy. Having gained a claret and blue scarf on the return leg we arrived back at Luton station in time for the last A bus into Dunstable, with dreams of where our next trip would take us in the New Year.

Burnham

Amazingly, this was the first opportunity for us to have a Scottie Tour this season. It had been sorely missed and we were looking forward to the trip. The train journey itself was a straight forward trip from Luton, into London and back out again to Taplow. The Burnham station and the Taplow station were equidistant from the ground, so we decided to go to Taplow as the first pub recommended by the Good Beer Guide was the Olive Tree was nearer to the station. A met at the Scandinavian Cafe in High Town for breakfast was arranged and the train to London St Pancras was boarded at Luton Railway Station. Waving goodbye to Luton is always a pleasurable experience, but it is often soured in the knowledge that all too soon we shall return. Once in London a brief journey on the underground to Paddington were we boarded the First Great Western service to Reading, bound for Taplow. 

The Olive Tree was formerly the Maypole and was refurbished in 2013. On arrival the landlord was preoccupied by the Manchester United match on the TV and really was not on the ball. Whilst we bored him with the usual George Best played for Dunstable routine, he clearly was not concentrating as he gave Kevin change from a £35 pound note. Kev kept quiet and suggested moving on a bit sharpish. As the only real ale they had on was the local Rebellion out of a plastic box, we agreed and made our way towards the ground in Burnham and stumbled across the Brickmakers Arms. 

The Brickmakers is approximately 200 years old and has changed many times in its appearance over those years and had recently reopened back in March. Things clearly were not well here. We were the only people around and the landlady spent almost the entire time on the phone. After a couple of pints of London Pride, she apologised and informed us that her daughter was ill in hospital. We have since heard that the Brickmakers has closed. 

On entry to the ground it did not start well. NO STUDENT DISCOUNT. Unbelievable. To rub salt in the wound Kev bowled in on a senior citizen rate. He thinks this is a good thing, but being mistaken for 60+ cannot be a good look. Forwards to the match. Pretty non-descript, to say the least. Our away form has been amazing so far this season, so to lose to a team who are struggling at the foot of the table 2-0, was embarrassing. On the up side, the Burnham programme had a voucher for a discount at a fish and chip shop, so we planned our walk back to Burnham station to incorporate a visit. 

First stop was The Bee on Dropmore Points, I mean, Road. The Bee is a quiet comfortable corner pub with very friendly staff and a nice selection of ale, with Brakspear’s Bitter and the excellent Oxford Gold on tap. A couple of pints in here with Kevin’s ill-gotten gains, before we moved onto the Red Lion on the high street and a quick Charlie Well’s Bombardier. 

The discounted fish and chips were collected on the way to the station and the train journey back to Paddington was eased with the dissection of our performance against Burnham. It was not pretty. 

Back in London, and a well-deserved pit stop at the excellent Euston Tap. Occupying the stunning Grade II listed West Lodge in Euston Square, this craft beer house is brought to London by the same team running the well regarded Sheffield Tap. It features 8 changing cask beers, as indicated on a large chalk board, served through unique beer taps on the bar back wall. In addition and above the cask taps are the keg beer taps bringing exotic and unusual brews from around the world. 

As you enter the small main room the tiled bar is straight in front of you, with a fine mirror on the back and the whole room has been decorated using a nice line in green tiles and is normally, standing room only. A spiral staircase leads up to another room with seating and the world’s smallest toilet. Directly opposite is its sister lodge, The Cider Tap offering up to 5 traditional ciders served by hand pump or gravity, as well as an impressive array of bottled ciders and some lethal calvados. We find it hard to leave here sober, but we do try hard! 

The waltz back to St Pancras, past the impressive hotel is always a pleasant walk and you see all of London life in that few hundred yards, before the bustle of finding a seat for the return leg to Luton and staying awake, so we do not end up in Bedford. The final leg is the scramble for the last bus back to Dunstable, if we have timed it correctly. Another great day out, somewhat spoilt by the football, but this is becoming a worrying trend for a Scottie Tour.